


Lonktober challenge 2020

by A_Winter



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, sher
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Oneshot Prompts Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Winter/pseuds/A_Winter
Summary: A series of one-shots for October to match the challenge, will update tags as I write.
Relationships: Mary Morstan & John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Prompts




	2. A Magician Never Tells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 Prompt - Clown  
> AU - Circus life  
> Secrets of the big tent.

John raised his pistol for the final time, checking his aim as the world around him bled to nothing and silence fell. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink, the air around him seemed to still until finally he pulled the trigger and time started once more. Suddenly the screams of the woman before him filled his ears before she went silent and fell slack against the ropes which held her bound. Silence surrounded John as he lowered his pistol, slipped it into his holster and walked towards the still silently spinning woman. The marksman held out a hand and slowed the turning wheel until Mary was once more upright, at which point she lifted her head and winked at the stunned audience. Suddenly the crowd roared to life, the cheers deafening as John untied his dizzy wife and together, they took a bow. Years they’d spent together touring their act but still the last shot as she spun always filled John with dread, he hated to put her in harms way like that but without it their act wouldn’t be the spectacle the circus needed… and Mary would not let another take her place. 

Well, maybe one other… 

Together to pair left the ring, hand in hand, to the sounds of applauds only to split once they passed the curtain. John kissed his wife on the cheek before turning without a word, at this point discussion was no longer necessary as they both knew full well where he was going. John entered another nearby tent and hovered at the back watching a familiar show nearing its finale. On a simple wooden stage stood a tall man, elegantly dressed with dark hair and piercing eyes. He held the hand of a weeping woman as he spoke soothing words to her, John knew it had been a successful show as there was barely a dry eye in the tent. Leaning casually against one of the support lines John waited another five minutes before the show officially ended and the beautiful man exited the tent, the marksman slipping away to join him. 

“Nice show today,” John smirked as he fell into step beside the other as they walked towards Sherlock’s trailer. The taller man did not socialise well with the others within the circus crew but preferred his own company, spending his free time in his trailer alone. John however was well liked and sociable, so it often confused the others that the pair were such strong friends.  
“Hmmm, as though it’s not every day?” Sherlock said with a raised brow and a dismissed snort. “What do you want John, don’t you have a wife to pester?” 

They had reached Sherlock’s small but comfortable living space at this point, the taller man already ducking through the door as if this too were not routine. 

“You’re the psychic, you tell me…” John teased following the other into the small space and closing the door. 

“I’ve told you six hundred and thirty-eight times,” Sherlock said in a low, almost threatening voice as he turned and began closing in on John, “I’m a mentalist not psychic. Besides one would have to be blind not to see what you’re after, honestly John you need to try harder is we’re to continue to foo-”

John reached out the short distance between them, grabbed Sherlock by his perfectly ironed collar and dragged him down until their lips came crashing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you, you talk too much?” John growled when they finally separated for air. 

“Frequently,” was Sherlock’s only reply before they came together once more as though starved for the very essence of each other.

Outside the sounds of cheers, screams and laughter masked their whispered voices while the bright lights and magic took the attention away from the two lovers indulging in one another. As with all magic tricks, the key to the deception was in the distraction.


	3. Fish in the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - food   
> Mycroft and Lestrade in a snippet of domestic bliss.

Mycroft stood, staring into the immaculately polished surface of the full-length mirror before him. Looking sophisticated in yet another perfectly tailored suit the man looked down his aristocratic nose and tried not to cringe as he eyes caught on the slight strain on the waistcoat buttons. With a suppressed sigh the elder Holmes brother walked to his closet to look for a more acceptable garment.   
As he did so however a pair of solid arms slid around that same resented waist as a chin rested on his shoulder to whisper, “Breakfast’s getting cold love…” 

Mycroft tried to smile and enjoy the embrace but all he was able to think of was how to hide his increased girth from his partner. 

“Thanks Greg, but I think I’ll have to give it a miss this morning… running late and all.” 

Lestrade released a displeased hum as he turned to kiss Mycroft’s neck. “I suppose, you’ll be home for supper, though right?” 

“Yes, though I’m thinking of making something light. How does salmon sound?”

“Sounds lovely, as long as this isn’t another one of your diets.” Greg looked at Mycroft meaningfully, “Since you hate salmon…” 

“Not at all, just saw a new recipe yesterday I’d like to try.” If Greg couldn’t see the colour tainting Mycroft’s ears himself then he’d surely have believed his lover’s convincing lie. After all, deception was part of his job. 

“You know, if you want to lose weight they say exercise is the best solution… and I can think of some we could do together…” Greg wrapped his lips around one of those burning lobes as his meaning became obvious. 

“Greg…” His name was little more than a husky whisper on the other’s lips, for a man who was usually such a master of control it was only in these intimate moments that Mycroft appeared unsure and almost submissive. 

“What do you say to a quick workout before we leave, I’ve heard it’s great for the body.” Lestrade emphasised his meaning by running his hands all over said body. 

“Well I suppose I ‘was’ going to change anyway…” Mycroft muttered but it was all the coaxing the DI needed, suddenly they were on their overly large bed once more as Lestrade stripped and worshiped Mycroft’s body just as it was.   



	4. Locked away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Prisoned 
> 
> When locked up some things become unchained...

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?” 

“Enough John, let it go already” 

“Let it go? Let it go? Sherlock, take a look around where are we right now?”

“There’s no need to be dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Sherlock we are in jail. Again. All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut and started a brawl.”

“I believe our friend with the thyroid condition and cheating spouse technically ‘started’ the fight, but your point is noted. Once Lestrade arrives it will all be fine and you can go on your date with Sarah.” 

“This isn’t about my date Sherlock; this is about you getting us arrested. Again. Actually no, this is about my date… you always seem to do this when I have one. Whenever I try to have a life outside of you and your cases something comes up to ruin it. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were sabotaging my relationship because you were jealous.” John finished in an enraged shout, he was on his feet now staring at his friend. Sherlock refused to look the doctor in the eye and then suddenly everything seemed to click into place. 

“You… You are, aren’t you?” John asked quietly, the breath practically knocked from him by the realisation. 

“Shut up John.” Sherlock surged to his own feet and began pacing, as far from his friend as the cell would allow. 

“Sherlock…” John said gently, as he watched the turmoil play across his flatmate’s face.

John stepped into the other’s path, held up a hand to make him pause and then, so slowly that it seemed time had stilled around them, John grabbed Sherlock by the scarf. With a gentle tug on the fabric Sherlock obligingly lowered his head even as John stretched up to meet him, lips settling against lips in a slow, tentative embrace. 

As far as first kisses went it left a lot to be desired, since they were currently incarcerated, but in that short moment silent promises were made and when Lestrade finally organised for their release John’s date was the last thing on his mind.


	5. Words of wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Masked 
> 
> Mrs Hudson gives Sherlock some advice following John's less than ecstatic response to his return...

“He’ll come around Sherlock, give him some time.” 

“He’s had time Mrs Hudson, I’ve been gone for two years and apparently he’s moved on with his life.” 

“Here, this should help the swelling” Mrs Hudson handed Sherlock a bag of frozen peas as she took the seat across from the young man she’d known so long. “It wasn’t easy for us Sherlock, especially not for him.”

The landlady reached out and took Sherlock’s free hand, squeezing it gently as her voice caught. 

“You left us, you left him, and we were forced to say goodbye. I know you have your reasons, but John was so alone in that time. He tried to keep himself together, a proper military man, but he became like a toy solider. He barely spoke, barely ate, he began wasting away. Of course when he was in front of people he acted fine, still acts fine, as though inside he’s not broken and hollow.” Tears began to fill the older woman’s eyes as she looked at Sherlock intently, trying to make him understand the emotions he never had.

“He didn’t want people to keep suffering, keep being reminded of you, so he put on a mask and showed us a man who was moving forward with his life. Even as his own heart withered, he was still caring for everyone else, such is our John. For a while he stopped seeing people because it got too hard to play the part, he would not let us see his pain. You need to understand Sherlock, he’s been suffering on his own… dying in his own way… for two years, only to have the mask he worked so hard to forge ripped away in a moment by the very man who caused it’s existence.   
“John has shown more genuine emotion today than we’ve seen from him since the funeral. Ask Molly or Gregory… they will say much the same I’m sure. So just give him time Sherlock, you are such a brilliant young man but some things aren’t ruled by logic.”   
Mrs Hudson gave the stunned detective’s hand another gentle squeeze before standing and leaving the table. As she made herself a fresh cup of tea she hoped time was all her foolish boys needed, they’d been through enough and deserved some happiness at last.


	6. Pirate Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Treasure 
> 
> Pirate Sherlock caught by Captain Watson

“A pleasure as always Captain Watson,” Crooned Sherlock as he eyed the Naval Officer leading his procession to the gallows. “I’m honoured you came to visit.” 

John ignored the convicted pirate, and once boyhood friend, as he walked ahead of the man and his two guards. 

“You know, next time I should visit you. How is Mary? Still disappearing at all hours?” Sherlock’s eyes were burning into John’s back, “Shall I tell you where she goes? I know it eats at you… long months away at sea and just what is she up to while you’re away. Your precious wife, mother of your child… well maybe…”

“Shut up Holmes,” John growled, fists clenching by his sides. 

“Oh John, you and I both know that is not possible. I will keep talking until my neck breaks on that noose, but my voice will chatter in your mind for the rest of your days. You’ll never be able to forget me John and you know it… and you’ll never stop asking if little Rosie is actually yours.”

John swung around and with a closed fist struct Sherlock in the gut, effectively winding and silencing him. The chained man doubled over even as John looked at the pair of young guards now staring at him. 

“Clearly Mister Holmes,” 

“Captain…” Sherlock interrupted with a wet cough. 

“Clearly MISTER Holmes has a few last words before he reaches the gallows, why don’t you both go ahead while I give him his last confessional.” There was a smouldering rage in John’s eyes as he glared at Sherlock. 

The young sailors looked hesitant, but their fear of Captain Watson outweighed their fear of being seen to shirk their duties. 

“Understood Sir,” They nodded and left John with the wheezing Sherlock, John grabbed a fistful of the pirate’s shirt and pulled back his fist for another blow just as the door at the end of the hallway shut. 

“Alright you great tosser, what’s your plan now?” John snarked, dropping his friend. 

“Did you have to hit me so hard John?” 

“Needed to make it believable,” The Officer said with a shrug and a smirk. 

“Prat…”

“Likewise.” 

“Alright, well first things first… give me your pistol, it’s time for us to escape.” John handed over his weapon and then suddenly he was pulled flush against Sherlock, the other’s chain’s around his neck. Sherlock’s warm breath whispered in his ear, the smile practically audible, “Now be a good hostage and shout…”


	7. Fussy Eater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6  
> Sweet and sour 
> 
> John tries to find something Sherlock will eat.

“Pizza?” 

“Ugh, not again.” 

“Pasta?” 

“Same difference.” 

“Chip shop,” 

“No.” 

“Pub?”

“Banned.” 

“Thai?”

“Banned.” 

“Indian?” 

“No.”

“Chinese?” 

“…” Sherlock paused and considered it, a new shop had opened up down the way and it did seem promising. “What would we get?”

“Honey chicken?” 

“No.” 

“Spring rolls?” 

“No.” 

“Fried Rice?” 

“Ugh…” 

“Sweet and sour pork?” 

“…” Sherlock searched his mind, he knew of the dish and what went into it, that it was quite popular and usually made so regularly that freshness was often guaranteed but he did not ever recall eating it. “Potentially…” 

“That’s good enough for me, get your coat.” John said, eager to rush out the door left Sherlock change his mind and keep them waiting another hour. 

“However…” 

“My God Sherlock, say one more word and I’m leaving without you.” John turned around with a glare only to find Sherlock right behind him, close enough that their breath began to mix. 

“However… I’d much rather eat you…” Then Sherlock’s lips were on his and the gnawing in John’s stomach gave way to a much more pleasant feeling. 

“Fine… but afterwards you’ll eat whatever I give you.” 

“Agreed…”


	8. Quenched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Thirsty   
> AU – Uni (Oxford)   
> John – Rugby player   
> Sherlock – Tutor

“Good game Watson!” The congratulations came with a slap on the back which left the exhausted, sweaty young man staggering. John smiled and gave a mock salute as thanks; he was not confident in his voice after shouting throughout the match. Making a beeline to the water cooler John bypassed his teammates who were celebrating their win in favour of drinking half the contents of the cooler. 

John had been playing rugby most of his schooling life and had managed to get a scholarship into a rather prestigious university to study medicine because of it. However, with how much time he was forced to allocate training he’d found his grades had begun to slip. That being the case he’d hired a tutor, an unsociable but beautiful genius he’d invited to the game but never expected to show. That being said, John almost choked on his water his eyes locked with Sherlock’s in the crowd. Something was wrong, his eyes were darker than normal, and he usual glare seemed even more strained. John tried to give him a smile as he doused some of the chilled water over his head and began to chug another cup. It was only then, their eyes still locked, as Sherlock slowly licked his lips that John understood… apparently he wasn’t the only one at this game feeling ‘Thirsty’.


	9. Save a horse – ride a cowboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Cowboy/Rodeo 
> 
> Need I say more?

Sitting straight in his saddle Sherlock kept his face perfectly neutral as Gladstone began to move, his mind was blank as his horse followed the familiar pattern of movements and gliding through the challenge with ease. The hardest part for Sherlock was keeping his face impassive and bored while his lower back ached and burned. It was the Dressage Individual Grand Prix Freestyle finals and Sherlock knew he’d never hear the end of it from Mycroft if he failed to bring back yet another useless trophy. Sherlock was far more invested in bringing back the cause of his discomfort than another scrap of metal.  
After a few long minutes their freestyle routine was complete and Sherlock began to lead Gladstone from the arena, the dabble grey practically floating as he pranced. There were still two other competitors to go but Sherlock felt no need to hang around, instead he decided to walk Gladstone to cool him down… right by the bull pit and some rather dashing cowboys. Sherlock had seen the earlier roping events, mildly impressed by the skills shown by a few of the men but now it was time for the Bronc riding. Sherlock heard the crowds cheering and steered Gladstone closer so that he might watch, just in time to see one unfortunate soul come flying off the bronc and land with a heavy thud. The dressage rider moved closer still; eyes unconsciously seeking a familiar frame, his lower back throbbing painfully.  
Then Sherlock spotted him, John Watson, sitting on the edge of the bucking shoot waiting for the bronc to be readied for him. Their eyes locked and suddenly it wasn’t Gladstone beneath him but the hard, unyielding form of a wild, insatiable cowboy. Sherlock felt a trill of sensation run through him at the memory as when as the wicked grin slowly spreading on Watson’s face as though he knew exactly what was on the other’s mind. With a knowing wink and an exaggerated straddling of the bronco Watson was off, Sherlock’s eyes glued to those strong arms and stronger thighs with intimate knowledge of just how muscular they were. Sherlock watched the other ride as if in slow motion, every movement seeming far more sensual than it should… never before had he experience a longer eight seconds. Eventually the timer sounded, the other riders moved in to assist John’s dismount from the still bucking horse and Sherlock began to press Gladstone towards the gate he knew John would use. As soon as they were within speaking distance of each other Sherlock swung down and approached the cowboy.

“Back for more I see…” The cheeky blond said with a wink but Sherlock simply silenced him by pulling the cowboy into a heated, lustful kiss. 

“You are wearing far too many clothes.” Sherlock complained when they finally separated, his only response was a low growl as John began to manhandle Sherlock into remounting Gladstone before swinging up behind him. 

“Round 2 awaits,” John whispered huskily into Sherlock’s ear causing the man to shiver with pure ‘want’ before urging his horse on towards John’s trailer and yet another kind of ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All, 
> 
> Yes I know these are short but this is supposed to be a daily art challenge but I can't draw so you get this. If there are any you particularly like please comment and I will try to expand them after the initial challenge is done. Thanks.


	10. Double trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 9: Twins

“You never said you had a Twin…” Sherlock groused as he sulked on the sofa, refusing to look at John. 

“What are you on about Sherlock, you knew I had a sister… we talked about it on the night we went to our first crime scene, we’ve talked about Harry’s drinking many times.” 

“Exactly but you never said she was your twin.” John looked at his friend and lover in abject confusion. 

“What does it matter that she’s my twin? She’s still my alcoholic sister that I haven’t seen in years who left her girlfriend and ran out on rehab three times. 

“It matters, it matters that you kept it from me. That there’s someone who will always be closer to you than me, who is literally a part of you.” Sherlock yelled, his eyes wide as though his own emotions scared him. 

John suddenly understood and approached his partner, getting close and speaking softly he said the words he knew Sherlock needed right now. 

“I love my sister, she’s my sister, but I love you too. Only the love I have for you is different, it’s immense and consuming. Harry may have my blood but you have my heart, you giant prat. Besides you do know that we are fraternal twins, yeah? So really we only shared a very small hotel together for nine months.” John took Sherlock’s hands and kissed his cheek. Sometimes his lack of common sense astounded the Doctor, but he’s just realised that he didn’t mind it… especially when it made Sherlock jealous and more open to affection and intimacy. 

John sat beside Sherlock, only for the other to practically crawl into his lap, “I don’t think I could survive without you any more John…” 

“You’ll never have to.” John placed a gentle kiss to Sherlock’s brow and simply held him as the night melted away.


	11. Behind a monarch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: King

“I never wanted this Sherlock, I was happy as just a soldier. I didn’t want to be Crown Prince and I certainly don’t want to be King.” John complained, looking at his Friend, lover and adviser. 

“John, this is the only way we can ensure your prolonged safety. You are an amazing soldier, but you’ve been wounded too many times. It is clear that someone is trying to eliminate the competition for the crown, you may not think you want it but the people favour you because of your kindness and heroism. That is a powerful force to have behind you. Your father is not getting any younger, his health is fading so it is time you leave the front lines and go home. And start wearing proper respectable clothing.” Sherlock lectured. 

“Says the man currently wrapped in ‘MY’ bedsheet.” John leered at his lover, wrapped like a tempting present ready to be revealed. John, himself, was laying nude on the stripped bed, recovering from their earlier exercise. “You know love, if you’ve still got energy to plot, scheme and nag then clearly I haven’t ravished you nearly enough.”

“John I am serious…” Sherlock turned with a glare, his analytical mind already planning out John’s future.

“As am I.” John stood in full naked glory, stalked over to his prey and began to kiss Sherlock’s neck.

“John…” Sherlock groaned in an attempt to sound scolding. 

“Look, we both know that you’re the real brains of this outfit and that one way or another you’ll have me doing what you want so let’s just skip the instructions and move straight to the part where I make you scream.” John urged, stripping away the sheet and pulling Sherlock fulling into his arms. The other man arching his neck into John’s lips and grinding ever so slowly back against John. 

“As you wish… My King.”


End file.
